


The Serpent Assassin

by Adara_Rose



Series: Thedasian Fairy Tales [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Fairy Tale Curses, Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Tale Retellings, Fairy Tale Style, Fluff, Happy Ending, Love at First Sight, M/M, Romance, happy ever after
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 21:22:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7986637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adara_Rose/pseuds/Adara_Rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince Bela of the Emerald might just be the jewel needed to free the Master of the Crows from the Lindworm Curse. At least if you ask Isabela.</p>
<p>A Thedasian Fairy Tale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Serpent Assassin

Prince Bela of Brecilia had always dreamed of adventure, which his family usually said was due to the amount of books he read. He was a highly intelligent young man, but rather a dreamer and had an unfortunate tendency to believe the best of everyone. While it was endearing, it was also, at times, very dangerous. 

 

He set out on his very own adventure the day after he was freed from the Swan Curse by his youngest brother, sweet Icthlarin, less than an hour after having seen said brother married to the mage he loved. He chose to wander west, towards the sea, and soon found himself in a small coast town with a harbor more or less larger than the town itself. It was quite a sight for the very sheltered Bela, and he marvelled at the dock workers who seemed to move so confidently on and off the ships. He tasted the fresh fish (and did not care for it), watched the seagulls fly, and listened with wide eyes to the cries and curses of sailors and workers alike. 

 

So absorbed was he, that he did not see where he was going and crashed into someone, sending them both toppling to the ground.

Bela stuttered and stammered profusely when he realised it was a woman. 

“I- I am sorry, my lady, please forgive me-” he begged before he had gotten a good look at her.

“Oi!” She protested. “You take that back! I sure ain’t no lady!” Bela blinked in confusion, but then he got a good look at the woman in question and his face immediately turned as red as his hair. She was  _ practically half naked! _ Her short white dress barely covered her very ample behind, and the thigh-high boots only served to accentuate the lack of skirt. Her skin was a beautiful, dusky brown and the knives strapped to her back looked frighteningly sharp.

“I’m so sorry, uh…”

“Captain. Captain Isabela.” The woman stood up, adjusted her blue bandana and looked at him with unrestrained amusement.

“You’re cute” she said, admiring his form. “Where are you from, sweet cheeks?”

“Oh! I… um… I’m from Brecilia” Bela stuttered, pushing his hair behind his ear in a nervous gesture, 

“Land of gemstones?” The Captain asked, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow. Bela nodded. 

“Then maybe you’re the one I’ve been looking for!” 

“I’m sorry?” 

“Oh I’m on a quest, given by the Crows of Antiva, to find a precious jewel that will free their master from a horrible curse. I figured that what with the amount of jewellry he has been given at this point, you’re not supposed to interpret that literally.” The Captain eyed the fine circlet resting in Bela’s hair. “Are you a prince?” She demanded.

“Yes” Bela was still very confused. Captain Isabela crowed with delight and did a little shimmy. It was very distracting, since it set her ample bosom to move under her tight clothes. Poor Bela hardly knew where to look.

“Aha!” She cheered, “a prince of Brecilia - land of gemstones - is surely a precious jewel! You’ll have a go, right?”

“What… what exactly is it you expect me to do?” He asked, feeling helpless. Isabela grabbed his arm and dragged him towards her ship.

“Well, see, Zevran - that’s the master of the crows - has been cursed into the form of a lindworm, and it can only be broken by a precious jewel from beyond the sea and then there was something else that I do not remember. You are a precious jewel, we are beyond the sea from Antiva. Criteria fulfilled!”

Bela hesitated at the thin gangplank that led onto Isabela’s ship. Could he really trust this woman whom he had known only briefly? But he had always had good intuition about people, and his instincts told him he could. And what an adventure it would be - a land beyond the seas! This mysterious Antiva must truly be something special if they had a guild of assassins. Maybe he would even meet his true love there. 

“Alright” he said softly, “I will go.”

 

* * *

 

 

The journey to Antiva was long, taking many days and nights until Bela had lost count of them. It was also terribly boring, for the men serving under Captain Isabela did not have much to say to such a fine gentleman as Bela. Mostly it was crude jokes and lewd offers, but once Isabela had informed them that she would keelhaul - whatever that was - the first one who laid as much as a finger on the jewel she was bringing to the Master of the Crows, that tapered off too. It resulted in Bela spending most of his time cooped up in the crow's nest, reading and dreaming of the days when he flew across the waters with his brothers and sisters, cursed into the shape of a swan. It made his heart ache for Zevran, whom he had never met, but whom was cursed too. A hideous beast, Isabela had said, but that was also all. He wondered what sort of beast it was, and how he was expected to break the curse. He snorted to himself thinking maybe he just needed a true love’s kiss. That would be silly; he had no proof that he was the man’s true love! And yet… for the past few nights he had been haunted of dreams of another elf, of similar size and build as himself, but with yellow hair and golden skin. He had been very handsome, and his lips had pressed against Bela’s hair in reverence. “My own” the strange elf had whispered as he pressed burning kisses to Bela’s skin, “my very own.” Bela wondered if the dreams were prophetic; maybe the man was his one true love. But where did that leave poor Master Zevran?

Bela sighed and peeked over the edge of the crow’s nest. Far below him, the men were yelling and cursing and toiling with things that made no sense to him. He sighed and picked up his book again. Then he heard a cry from the man who had climbed the netting and was attentively watching the horizon, some three feet below him.

“Land ahoy!” he cried, “Antiva straight ahead!”

Bela put his book away and turned to see where he was pointing. Antiva! There it was, his grand adventure.

Bela stepped of the gangplank onto the docks and immediately felt his head start spinning. He swallowed hard to keep from being sick, and felt relieved when a comforting presence appeared just behind him.

“Don’t worry” Captain Isabela said, “everyone feels sick the first time they disembark. You need a bit of time to get used to being on solid ground.”

Bela whimpered, then promptly bent over and emptied his stomach. 

“Thanks” the captain said sarcastically, “just what my new boots needed.”

“I’m sorry” Bela gasped, feeling horrible.

“I know. Come on, you can buy me a drink to make up for it.” 

The pub captain Isabela had chosen was small and cramped and smelled dreadful, but Bela did not protest. He simply paid for the drinks and obediently followed her to a table in a corner.

“Now will you please tell me about the curse” Bela begged once the captain was halfway through her second drink. 

“Don’t know much. Big, ugly snake with nasty fangs. Eats people when he’s pissed. When I left, they’d tried twenty different gems but none of them worked.”

“Fifty now” a man with a nasty scar across his face said grimly, “Zevran’s eaten twelve people, last I heard.”

“No, fifteen” the man’s companion said. The two descended into an argument about exactly how many people Master Zevran had eaten. Bela listened in mute horror until he felt as if he might faint from it. He rose to his trembling legs, and bowed shortly to Isabela.

“I… I need some air.” She waved at him dismissively and returned her focus to her drink. Bela drew a deep breath and left the smelly inn. He needed fresh air. Time to think. Perhaps a bit of help.   


 

* * *

 

 

Prince Bela wandered the city aimlessly until he was quite firmly lost amongst the odd trees and odder houses, with their white walls and flat roofs. Eventually, he found himself at a small square with a well in the center. Feeling very thirsty, he hurried over there. The only person around was an old woman with skin even darker than Isabela's, dressed in a long blue dress and a black shawl over her hair. 

“Please, my good lady” Bela begged, “may I borrow your bucket so I may get some water from the well? I am awfully thirsty.”

The old woman looked at him with odd, ancient eyes. She handed him the bucket and soon Bela was able to slake his thirst with the cool, fresh water. It was the most delicious drink he had ever had. Once he finished, he handed it back.

“Please allow me to express my gratitude” he said and pulled a few coins from his pocket. 

“I want no money” said the old woman, shaking her head. “Why are you here, boy? Your voice tells me you are not antivan, and even if it did not even I with my bad eyes can see that your skin is pale as sand.”

“I am from Brecilia, from across the sea. I have come to free Master Zevran from his curse.”

The old woman shook her head.

“That cannot be done with any gem, child. They have tried.”

“I have no gems with me. Captain Isabela said I  _ am _ a gem, and therefore I can free the Master. I am Bela of the Emerald, prince of Brecilia.”

“An emerald, hm? Well, it was said when the curse fell upon the master that a green jewel would free him.”

Bela discreetly helped himself to a bit more water from the bucket standing on the ground between them. It was very hot, and he felt both sore and tired. 

“Then please, good lady, do you know how the curse might be broken?” He asked, hopefully. The woman smiled.

“Why, my boy, you are the first to actually ask instead of assuming. Yes, I do know how to break the curse of a Lindworm.”

“Then, please, do tell me!”

“Nay, not for nothing. You may buy the knowledge… with a lock of your hair.”

Bela thought it a rather odd request, but then he knew very little about magic. He nodded his consent and the old woman cut a lock of bright red hair from him.

“Thank you. Now, here is what you must do: you must stand before the Master and decree that you will only free him if he weds you. Then, on your wedding night, you must ask to be dressed in ten snow-white shirts. Then you must request a tub of lye [washing-water prepared with wood-ashes] and a tub of milk to be brought into the chamber, along with as many whips as a boy can carry in his arms. Then, the doors must be locked behind you and the Master.”

“Must I marry him?” Bela asked pitifully, thinking of the elf in his dreams.

“Do you want to free him or not?” The old woman demanded and Bela hung his head. His good heart would not permit him to back out now.

“Yes” he whispered. The woman nodded in satisfaction and continued her instruction;

“Master Zevran will then ask you to shed a shirt, and you must look him straight in the eye and demand he sheds a skin. Do not give in, no matter how he reacts. Repeat this until he has shed all his nine skins. Then, you take a whip, dip it in the lye and whip him as hard as you can. Do this with all the whips. Finally, take him and wash him in the fresh milk, before drying him with your last shirt. Finally, take him to the bed and embrace him.” 

Bela shuddered at the thought of holding a beast in his arms.

“Must I?” 

“Yes. You must embrace him, even if only a moment.”

Bela sighed deeply.

“Then I will. I will do exactly as you said, my lady. Thank you.”

“There you are!” A voice cried in relief. “I’ve been searching all morning! Who are you talking to?” Captain Isabela hurried towards him, the look on her face a cross between relief and consternation. Bela looked around, bewildered. The old woman had vanished without a trace. The only sign that she had ever been there, was the bucket standing by his feet.

“I… I don’t know” he admitted.

 

* * *

 

 

Bela reluctantly raised his gaze to look at the horrifying creature lying curled in front of him. It was as long as the hall they were in, as thick as a tree trunk, and covered in slimy scales. The huge red eyes rolled in its head and the fangs dripped poison as it spoke.

“Ssso you think you can break thisss curssse?” 

“Yes” Bela said, attempting to sound confident.

“And how?” The lindworm demanded. “With a preciousss ssstone? Have it here then, so it may fail. I am hungry, and you look like a ssssatisfying meal.” 

Bela almost swooned in horror, but he had come this far. He would see this through. And if he ended up eaten by Master Zevran… well, then at least he had tried. 

“First” he said, forcing his voice to keep steady, “we shall be married. Then-” he was interrupted by the mocking laughter from the other people in the hall, but continued undeterred. “Then into our wedding rooms shall be brought a tub of lye, a tub of milk and as many whips as a boy can carry in his arms. After the door has locked behind us, I shall break your curse, Master Zevran.” The lindworm made a hissing noise that Bela assumed to be laughter.

“Marriage?” It hissed, “you demand marriage? Are your eyes functioning? I am a  _ beasst _ !” It sounded threatening, but Bela was looking into its eyes and saw the unfathomable sorrow there. It made his heart ache.

“Yes” he said softly, The silence fell as more and more people realised that this strange foreign elf was completely serious.

“Very well” Zevran finally said, “but if you fail, you will die.”

“I understand” Bela murmured, nodding. 

“Anything else my betrothed wants?” The lindworm asked sarcastically. Bela shook his head no. There was more laughter, but Bela ignored it. He had seen the glimmer of hope in the horrible red eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m starting to regret this decision” Isabela said as she watched two maids dress Bela in ten white shirts, as he had insisted the moment he was left alone with them to dress for the ceremony. “I didn’t count on you being completely crazy.”

Bela ignored her, focusing on repeating to himself the instructions the old lady had given him. He had no idea if they would work, but they were all he had.  _ Have him shed nine skins, then dip the whips in lye and whip him with them. Finally wash him in milk and hold him in your arms.  _

“I will free him” he said confidently, but his voice betrayed his nerves on the last word. Isabela shook her head.

“It’s your funeral, kid” she said. “Pity. I really liked you.”

 

* * *

 

 

The door locked behind Bela with a soft click, but to him it was like the low, ominous toil of a doomsday bell. The two tubs stood side by side waiting, and beside them lay the whips just as he had requested. But still he felt as if he might as well jump from the window to his death right now and spare himself the horror of being eaten by the lindworm, who had slithered in beside him. The creature now lay curled up, watching him with those terrifying red eyes.

“Sssso” it finally hissed, “here we are. A pretty husband for a horrifying creature.” It seemed to look him over carefully, taking in the lines of his body, the flow of his red hair, the gemstone shining on the circlet encircling his head.

“Yes” Bela whispered, voice shaking. The lindworm slithered closer and Bela bit back a scream.

“Well then. Husband, take of your shirt.”

"M-Master Zevran" Bela stuttered, trying desperately to keep his voice steady, "slough a skin!"

"No one has ever dared to tell me what to do!" The hideous monster hissed furiously.

"But I dare! And I command you to slough a skin!"

Master Zevran hissed in anger, but began to wriggle and move around. In a few minutes, a long snake-skin lay upon the floor beside him. Bela took off his first shirt and spread it on top of the skin. The lindworm spoke again;

“Husband, take of your shirt.” and Bela replied, his voice a little steadier this time: 

“Master Zevran, slough a skin!”

"No one has ever dared to tell me what to do!"

"But I command you to do so!"

And within minutes, a second skin lay on the ground. Bela covered it with his second shirt. Then the lindworm again bade him,

“Husband, take of your shirt.” and Bela replied,

“Master Zevran, slough a skin!” The lindworm’s horrible red eyes rolled furiously, but Bela was not afraid and once more he commanded him to slough a skin.

And so it continued until nine lindworm skins and nine white shirts lay on the floor. There was nothing left of the terrible lindworm but a huge, thick mass, most horrifying to see. Bela drew a long, shaky breath, then picked up the first whip.

“Forgive me” he whispered, before dipping it in the lye and raising it above his head.

He whipped the lindworm mercilessly with each whip, until his arms ached and his eyes stung from tears. Finally, he threw away the last whip and looked at the wriggling heap of flesh on the floor. Feeling sick to his stomach at having to touch it, he picked it up and carefully lowered it in the tub of warm milk. The lindworm, that had not uttered a sound as he whipped it, hissed in pain as the milk touched his wounds and Bela started to cry, softly.

“I’m sorry” he whispered to the horrifying creature, for Bela was a gentle soul who could not bear to see anyone suffer. After having bathed him all over, Bela gently carried the lindworm over to the bed. He dried it carefully with his last shirt, then laid down next to it. He carefully put his arms around it and promptly fell asleep, exhausted from the evening’s events. 

 

* * *

 

 

In the morning, Bela awoke to the sunlight streaming in through the windows. He blinked his eyes open, stunned to see he was still alive.

“Good morning, my own” a voice said from somewhere behind him and Bela turned around swiftly. Next to him lay a man that looked exactly like the elf from his dreams, from the slender feet to the tattoo on his face.

“You” Bela whispered in awe and delight. Then he sat up sharply. “Master Zevran!” He cried in a panic, “Where is Master Zevran?” The other elf laughed, a sound that made Bela’s insides twist in a most delicious way.

“My own, I am Master Zevran. But I would prefer if you called me Zev.” Bela looked at him in wonder.

“Zev” he whispered. “I dreamed of you, on the ship. Every night-”

“I know. And I dreamed of you. When I saw you in the hall… I feared you would fail. Then I would have had no choice but to kill you.”

Bela laid down again, curling close to his husband.

Zevran let his hands slide down Bela’s body, stroking him in a way that was familiar and exhilaratingly unfamiliar at the same time. Familiar in that it had happened many times before, in dreams, and unfamiliar in that it was the first time they were both awake. 

“My own” Zevran murmured as he leaned in for a kiss, “my own jewel. My Bela.”

“Yours” Bela agreed happily.

And they both lived (and loved) happily ever after.

  
  


_ -Fin. _


End file.
